Day Twenty at Guide Dogs

Graduation day.

It's hard to put into words how I feel today, it's such a mix. Whe've already exchanges contact information to keep up with each other. My classmates are dealing with it in various ways. Some sequester themselves away in preparation...avoiding goodbyes. Some busy themselves with imagined duties to take their minds off farewell. I use my standby device...humor, to lighten the blow of "so long".

Even the dogs are aware of the change. Burgess sat up, looking at the suitcase and then at me, with a worried expression as if to say, "what's happening?? Where are you going??" I explained to him that this was not our home and we were going on a happy trip where he'd be taken care of, even better than he is here. Once I packed the dog food, he had no problem with it.

The rest of the day will be what you might call the doggie red carpet. Dogs and students will be groomed to the teeth and on display for visitors as exemplary proof of what the organization can do. One may speak a few words at the ceremony, or not...it's a personal choice...and one I'm stuggling with.

You see...I may break down.

Day Nineteen at Guide Dogs

The last day of training.

Today was taken up with the bare bones of iteneraries for going home. Some of us are leaving directly after ceremonies. Others like me, are leaving at dawn of the next day. Mostly, goodbyes ruled the day. It's been an experience learning to work with a guide dog in San Francisco and the Bay Area. I feel I can do it anywhere now. I've made a great frienship with not only a phonomenal dog but with a fellow classmate in my area, and I feel the future is bright. To think, less than two years ago I was afraid to leave my house due to my disability. A walk to the mailbox was a triumph. I found that my story was'nt new. I heard it over and over again, out of the mouths of people from 22 to 78 years old.

I learned a lot here, and not just about guide dogs.

Day Eighteen at Guide Dogs

Less than 48 hours to graduation.

Today, we did guidework in Berkely. God, it was great to be back there. It has'nt changed in 31 years. I thought that it might have become a glossy metropolis, but it's still the funky, hippified, college town that I remember from the seventies. Students don't walk the campus... they float along. You can almost smell the pot in the air. Burgess loved the meadnering walkways and the crowds of students, he walked so briskly, that it was an effort to keep up with him. You don't get many chances to revisit your past and have it be just as pleasant as you remember...I'm a lucky fellow.

Later in the afternoon, we went through the aforementioned exit interviews...a blessedly short process, where I voiced the concerns of yesterday's post. I got a very pleasant and informed explanation that it was difficult to find African-American applicants. Mind you, Marin County is an exceedingly white enclave, but I'm of the opinion that one finds what one looks for, and the net should be flung wider. I opined to this director of training, (a white South African...how's THAT for flinging your net?) That since the student population was incredibly diverse, that it was a detriment to not only the school, but to the students and to the program itself, that diversity was'nt mirrored in it's staff.

I'm also somewhat anxious about the graduation excercises. Apparently this event draws dog-crazy aficianados from all over the area, and Burgess os a well-known dog 'round these parts. He seems to recognize people I've never met or seen...and they know him on sight.

This will not be an easy getaway.

Day Seventeen at Guide Dogs

Another one of us got sent home without their dog.

This was especially wrenching, because it is only 48 hours from graduation. The Brooklynite cum San Franciscan I spoke of earlier and his dog, Tiki...Burgess' kennel romance. By the gentleman's own admission, he was poor in guidework technique...If one does'nt have that it's a a danger to the dog and to you. He'd have benefitted from the four-week course, which is no longer offered, in favor of this three-week intensified program. This wonderful man...a Vietnam vet, and husband...needed more time. Unfortunately as he is starting a new job in three weeks, time just isn't there. In this case, instructors and students were shedding tears over this sad occurrence. The scene of his classmates and teachers crowding his dorm doorway to hug him was truly moving.

Tomorrow is exit interviews, where we as students will clinically asses our time here, and this new program they've instituted. In my opinion the staff here are outstanding. The program is rigorous but thorough, but two things trouble me. One is the fact that the instructors have a tendency to be snippy and condescending at certain junctures, a fact that I was warned about, by a former graduate whom I met by chance on a bus in Seattle. The second thing is far more disturbing. There are NO African-American persons on staff at this facility. I'm told, that this school has been in operation since 1942. Every day, since I've been training here, I've lunched with a different person from a different department of this school...sometimes two....and not one of them is black. The only people of color employed here are latino, and they are relegated to kitchen and household staff.

A fact that I will mention.

Day Sixteen at Guide Dogs

...and the days dwindle down to a precious few.

This day was taken up with post kennel vetrinary care and the stipulations of agreement. For one thing, the dog ALWAYS remains the property of Guide Dogs for the Blind...for the rest of the their life. You can, of course register for ownership of the dog, but certain stipulations have to be met.

One also recieves annual visits for two years, so that a representative my observe the health and progress of the guide and answer or help with any challenges or concerns the owner may have. In fact, concerns about the health or guide worthiness of the dog are encouraged to be asked at any time and if urgent help is needed, it is dispatched.

But the kicker of the day is always guidework with Burgess, and today it was San Francisco's Embarcadero. I also recieved two reports from Burgess' puppy trainers, via the administration. The first, a fifteen year olg girl wrote her report fom the dog's point of view. She described what I'd already discovered...that Burgess was a friendly, laid-back, happy, loving dog, that when nervous or lonely, he chewed things, but I also learned new information.

The second girl, one year younger, described quite a more posh life...apparently, Burgess sunned his early days away running on the high-priced beaches of Malibu, swimming in the ocean and attending horse shows. I'm told he loooved horses.

Boy, is Burgess in store for a rude awakening.

Day Fifteen at Gude Dogs

It's winding up!

Today adressed itself to transitioning home. Seperate counseltations were done, student to instructor, about the practical aspects of how each dog will graft into the household or family. The gift shop opened today and some of us went a little crazy. We're all a little dog loony at this point.

I was informed that I will have a guest at graduation excercises. My dear friend Bobby, who I've know for over two decades, will be in attendance. The other highlight of my day was taking Burgess to Union Square. It's was a kick walking around with that big, beautiful animal. People consider you differently with a dog. Whereas with a cane, it's "Look at that poor blind man" with a dog it's, " Wow! look what the blind guy can do with that dog!"

I have to admit it has a certain style.

Day Thirteen at Guide Dogs

Rain this morning and sun in the afternoon.

Saturday being the half-day, things get popping in the afternoon. I toddled off to the mall down the street and found a pub. Grown men need their relaxation and I found mine in a couple of boilermakers. But when I returned to feed Burgess, I found that others of my male compatriots preferred stronger medicine. Later about that.

Before Burgess' pm feeding I thought a little playtime was in order, so we made our way to the doggie paddock by the kennels. During a rousing game of fetch, I chanced to see Burgess' girlfriend, Tiki, and her master, a Brooklynite now living in San Francisco. We let the dogs play and they got into a heated game of tug of war. It was hilarious. The smaller faster, Tiki teased big Burgess...daring him to take the coveted rubber ring. When he finally did, he commanded it for a while and then put it down in front of his childhood sweetheart....my dog is such a gentleman.

Upon returning, I ran into a friendly lady who described three of my male classmates to a tee, and asked where she might find them. She had a girlfriend with her. I ushered them right in.

The strong medicine I spoke of earlier.

Wowsie-wowsie....woo-woo!